


The Light of Future Memories

by Dea_Isis



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drama, F/M, Humor, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnapping, Romance, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dea_Isis/pseuds/Dea_Isis
Summary: Tony Stark doesn’t make the best first impression, or second for that matter.A story of how Darcy meets Tony when his life is falling apart, and everything thereafter.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 136





	1. And so it begins

_“You make me nostalgic for a love that hasn’t even happened yet.”_ \- Anon

* * *

The first time Darcy Lewis meets Tony Stark, he doesn’t make the best of impressions.

She’s spent the last six months supporting Jane and Erik on a research study which had taken them across Europe. Nearing the end of their tour, they were attending charity gala in Stockholm where, fresh off the back of her Nobel Prize win, Jane was giving the keynote speech. It was far from her idea of a ‘fun’ evening; she had much preferred the nightlife of Budapest, with its edgy cafes and bohemian nightlife. Jane and Erik were in their element circulating the room and catching up with old colleagues—however, dressed to the nines in a formal strapless black ballgown and feet-killing heels, Darcy found herself occupying one of the tables alone.

Aside from the occasional sexual pass from men old enough to be her grandfather (she swore that the dress had covered more when she tried it on), once any conversation partners learned she was a political science and not an ‘ _actual science’_ major, their eyes seemed to glaze over and they made their excuses and went to network with more professionally advantageous guests.

Heaving a large sigh, she swigged the last of the champagne from her glass and headed over to the bar for another refill. Judging by the elegant decor and the open bar she guessed that the event probably cost more to host that it’d raise, but she’d long observed that the rich rarely engaged in philanthropy without their entire social circle around to witness it.

She vaguely recalled that Jane had mentioned that Dr Banner would be attending. He’d apparently drawn the short straw and been appointed as the representative of the Stark Industries scientific research pool for this event (as well as Tony’s minder since he’d been caught _in flagrante_ with the wife of some prominent politician at the last one). She hoped to see Bruce’s familiar face in the crowd as he hated these things as much as she did and was usually more than happy to provide distraction.

She leaned against the long bar located at the side of the room, hoping to relieve the burning pain in the balls of her feet and steady herself as the champagne took effect. Her alcohol tolerance wasn’t great at the best of times, let alone on an empty stomach. She spied the canapés at the opposite end of the ballroom but defeatedly decided her feet couldn’t handle the distance.

It was then she first laid eyes on Tony Stark, who was clearly making a drunken pass a lithe blonde who was the illustration of Scandinavian perfection. She’d heard from Jane (and the tabloids) that a few weeks before he and Pepper had called it quits. She could see he wasn't in the best state; finishing what was clearly far from his first glass of scotch. She vaguely wondered if the alcoholism and thewomanizing were the final straw for Pepper, or a if it was symptom of their break-up.

Feeling awkward at analyzing the personal life of a complete stranger, she abandoned her trail of thought and turned back to the bar. Managing to catch the barman’s eye, she smiled coquettishly whilst leaning over the counter, her arms crossed in a way to accentuate her chest; she wasn’t above using her ‘charms’ to get served ahead of rabble and he seemed more than happy to oblige. She thanked him for the drink and turned back to the room to see if there was anyone she recognized.

Where _was_ Jane anyway? Darcy had reluctantly agreed to go along for moral support under the promise that she wouldn’t be left alone at one of these things, _again._ She set her glass down and pulled her phone out of her clutch to check her messages in case she had been trying to find her in the crowded ballroom. She hadn’t.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she abandoned hope of spotting anyone she knew and instead started scrolling through her Instagram feed, looking for something vaguely more interesting than a picture of her aunt’s cats or another picture of some ex-classmate’s snot-nosed offspring.

She became aware of a movement next to her and looked up from her phone to see that an inebriated Tony Stark had slid in next to her, close enough for her to smell the alcohol on his breath. He trailed his eyes over her unapologetically; wearing a cocksure smile that had probably dropped the panties of many a socialite or Victoria’s Secret model. Eventually his eyes moved up to meet hers and Darcy raised a disapproving eyebrow in response.

“Got to say, misappropriating those _wonderful assets_ to get served first at a crowded bar like that is wholly unfair to the rest of us.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “However, there are many, _many_ things I could do with them if you wanted to make it up to me.”

Darcy began to reach for her glass to throw the drink in his face when Jane, who’d spotted Tony zeroing in on her assistant and knew it wouldn’t end well, slid in between them. Taking the drink from Darcy’s hand under the guise of taking a sip herself, she turned back to the billionaire and greeted him politely.

“Tony, you’re looking… well? I see you’ve managed to introduce yourself to Darcy.” 

“Foster,” he greeted flatly. He took another swig of scotch and trailed his gaze back to Darcy. “Yes, I was _just_ about to get acquainted with her.”

Darcy opened her mouth to tell him that he didn’t have a chance in hell of getting acquainted with _any_ part of her, but Jane interrupted before she could insult the man who would be funding her research for the next few years.

“Darcy’s my assistant. She’ll be managing my lab part-time when I start with SI this summer, so you’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

He addressed Darcy again, “Ah, you’re the one who negotiated Foster’s outlandish contract. Nice job classifying yourself as an ‘associated overhead’—our legal team had a fit when they saw it’d been signed off.”

In spite of everything, she found herself flattered that the world-renowned genius Tony Stark would complement her work. It gave her a fragment of hope that maybe working in his vicinity wouldn’t be as horrendous as their conversation first indicated.

Unfortunately, Tony Stark never knew when to keep his mouth _shut._ “It’s a shame you’re only working for Foster here,” he continued. “There’s lots of things that need doing in my lab too. Stacking papers. Alphabetizing files. Anything that involves you being bent over a desk…”

She took it back, this was _awful._

Jane, all too aware that Darcy is about to launch herself at Stark, pulled her back before she can take a swing at him. Thankfully, it was at that moment that the elusive Dr Banner (who was surprisingly stealthy for someone with a sixteen-hundred pound green alter ego) intervened, smiling apologetically at the women and placing a firm hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“All right, Tony. I think it’s time for us to get you to bed before you set a new SI record for fastest sexual harassment complaint.”

Tony was either too oblivious or too drunk to notice the death stare being levied at him by Jane and Darcy. He finished off his drink, and allowed Bruce to drag him away giving a salute and a wink at Darcy’s direction.

“Urgh. You were right, Jane—he _is_ a complete and utter ass.”

* * *

The second time they met wasn’t much better—if anything, it was _much_ worse.

It had been three months since their disastrous meeting at the gala in Stockholm and Darcy was overseeing the Jane’s move into Stark Tower’s labs.

She’d moved back to her native New York and in with her boyfriend, Julien, two months prior. Julien was an old student of Erik’s and was an associate professor at Columbia University, where she would be starting her masters in the fall. Darcy had been dating the handsome frenchman for just shy of eighteen months when, shortly before she departed with Jane for Sweden, he’d asked her to move in with him. She’d needed somewhere to store her things anyway, and following his insistence that it was the next logical step for their relationship to take, she had happily agreed.

The increased funding and access to much better resources meant that she wasn’t _strictly_ required by Jane anymore (Stark’s AI much more efficient at data modeling). In spite of this, Jane had insisted that Darcy’s skillset (which included the ability to manage her schedule and stay on top of inventory) was more than enough to justify having her around.

In any case, Jane would be conducting fieldwork eighty per cent of the time, so she wanted someone on the other end to ensure that there wasn’t any interruptions in the data transmissions. In addition to the steady salary, Jane’s insistence that she could use the lab as her own study space as and when needed had pushed her accept.

The guys from the building’s logistics team had already transported the majority of the equipment to Jane’s lab, so Darcy was just grabbing the last of the few boxes that had been left in the basement loading bay. Thankfully, the day before Jane had been called out to investigate a storm that showed similarities to the one in Puente Antiguo—a small miracle as Jane tended to hover and harass more than help when it came to her equipment.

Most of the tower’s ninety-three floors were dedicated to Stark Industries commercial purposes, with the lower floors taken up by support services and a few commercial leases. The eighty-sixth floor was split into two sections. A third was dedicated to individual contractors like Bruce and Jane, who received SI funding, but were essentially independent entities with full control over their own work. And the other two-thirds was used by SHIELD researchers, who required the increased level of security.The floors above were a mix of guest accommodation (including a floor dedicated to the Avengers, where Bruce resided and Jane would be occupying with Thor) and Stark’s own labs, workshops and apartment at the very top.

As part of Darcy’s induction the day before her biometric information had already been uploaded onto the tower’s systems, giving her automated access to the restricted floors.

She awkwardly shifted the heavy boxes using her knee as she waited for the loading bay lift to arrive and take her back up to the R&D floor. Darcy felt mildly mad speaking to empty lift car and doubted she’d ever get used to the ever-present virtual assistant. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you take me to the labs on level eighty-six please?”

“Sure thing, Miss Lewis.” With the AI’s sexy Irish lilt, she idly wondered if Stark had evermisappropriated it for some kind of high-tech phone sex. Probably.

Saving her from that train of thought, the lift doors opened to reveal the main reception of the R&D labs, which was apparently usually manned by a battleaxe of a woman named Delores who’d been with SI since Howard Stark was in CEO and she'd already been warned to avoid.

She headed down the long hallway to Janes lab, which was located at the far end of the floor. Her visibility was partially obscured by the boxes and as she turned the corner she found herself careening into Bruce, who himself was too busy scribbling down notes on a legal pad to be watching where he was going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” He looked up, somewhat startled, and ran a hand through his hair. “Darcy, hey! I didn’t realize that today was moving day.”

“Jane’s abandoned me for science, so I’ve been left to set-up singlehandedly.” She nodded her head to the boxes she was carrying, jostling them slightly as her fingers lost grip.

“Here, let me take those for you. You shouldn’t be carrying things yourself.” Ever the gentleman, he tucked the legal pad under his arm and took the boxes from her.

She gave him a broad smile, rubbing the indentations out of her palms. “Thanks, Dr Banner.”

“Darcy, I think call me ‘Bruce’ by now.”

“Yeah, but what’s the point of having seven PhDs if you can’t get a girl to call you ‘Doctor’?”

She wiggled her eyebrows and he laughed at her faux-leer. His eyes crinkled in what she recognized as one of his rare genuine smiles, and she found herself blushing a little bit. She wasn’t completely oblivious to the fact that Bruce Banner was a stone cold hottie.

It was a well known fact in Darcy’s social circle that she definitely had a ‘thing’ for older men (she’d been gooey-eyed for more than one of her professors). None of her friends had been surprised by her relationship with Julien who, at forty-five, was seventeen years her senior. She’d endured more than one inappropriate joke about her daddy issues.

With a sudden jolt of self-consciousness, she became all too aware that she probably wasn’t looking her best right now. Makeup free and her hair swept up in a messy topknot, she was wearing her glasses (a rarity since she started dating Julien) and an oversized grey t-shirt that hid her figure, along with some old paint-covered leggings and flip flops.

She walked with Bruce towards Jane’s lab, which was handily located opposite his own, whilst he outlined some of the key things to know about the tower (location of coffee machines, bathrooms, and emergency exits). He paused as they neared the lab and he half-queried, “You’re dating Julien Girard, right? I worked with him for a while I was at Culver.”

“Actually, we’re living together. I moved in with him when I got back.”

She knew what Bruce had left unsaid and continued pointedly, “I’m aware he had a bit of a reputation when he was lecturing there.” Julien had a certain notoriety in academic circles. He was a charming, attractive, brilliant man, whose accent no doubt weakened the knees of students and faculty alike, so it was hardly surprising.

Bruce has the decency to look somewhat sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“S’fine.”

The subject drew to a quick close and as they arrived the glass doors to Jane’s lab slid open automatically (another handy feature of the bio recognition system). Bruce entered first, placing the boxes on one of the empty desks. 

Breaking the slightly awkward silence that had fallen between them, Darcy asked, “You have access to all the labs?”

“Actually, Tony’s the only one with full access. You can customize the permission list on the control unit by the door if you want to limit people coming in and out. I wouldn’t be able to enter if I wasn’t with you.”

“Guessing that means that I can’t blacklist Tony on principle?”

Bruce winced, “I heard from Jane about what happened with your, uh, introduction…”

He half perched himself on the desk where he'd placed the boxes and folded his arms. “Tony’s not a bad guy, you know. Being ‘Tony Stark’ means that he has a very warped perspective on what’s appropriate to say or do.

“Not that it in any way excuses what he said to you, but he’s around my lab a lot and you’re bound to run into each other… I’d consider it a personal favor if you would keep an open mind when it comes to him.”

She heaved a reluctant sigh, but who could say 'no' to those big brown eyes? “I promise I’ll try.”

 _Speak of the devil._ Bruce had already spotted Tony and waved him into the room before Darcy could make an excuse and make for the nearest exit. “Good, because he’s coming in here right now.”

She turned around to see Tony striding down the hallway towards them. He looked much better than he had when she last saw him (which was probably because he wasn’t utterly shit-faced this time) and she grudgingly admitted that he looked _good_ in the old Metallica t-shirt and black undershirt that showcased his killer forearms.

He was browsing a tablet intensely but looked up to greet Bruce as he entered. “I thought Foster was moving in today?”

Darcy was the one to respond, “She’s away on fieldwork. I’m setting up for her.”

“And you are?” He turned around to acknowledge her.

“I’m Jane’s assistant.”

“No, you’re not.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Um, I’m pretty sure I am? Or at least so says my employment contract.”

Tony narrowed his eyes and flicked his gaze briefly over her. Bruce caught on to something that Darcy clearly hadn’t, and said warningly “Tony…”

“Are there two of you? I’m actually looking for the other one. You know, the hot one? Absolutely _made_ for sin? Pretty face. Pouty lips. Absolutely _perfect_ …” He trailed off and started to make a cupping motion in front of his chest and obliviously continued, “Bruce here told me I need to apologize for being a sexist pig.”

Darcy turned back to Bruce, ignoring Tony’s question and gave an exaggerated shrug.“Well, I tried.” She said, before turning her back to Tony and moving to start unpacking the boxes.

Bruce’s face fell into his hands in exasperation, whilst Tony just looked confused. “What did I say?”

_So much for starting over._


	2. Whispering at the back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony learns more about Darcy. *Warning* there's mention of suicide in this chapter.

Anthony Edward Stark was well aware that he could be _somewhat_ abrasive at times. Also rude, self-absorbed, vain, short-tempered, cynical, and many other negative adjectives that have been lobbed at him one time or another.

These were the traits that were also integral for him (under the guidance of the once trusted Obadiah Stane) to be able to take over as CEO of the billion-dollar Stark Industries at the mere age of twenty-one.

Since then, he found most people to be nothing but desperate sycophants, keen to latch themselves on to the famous Tony Stark (not that getting what he wanted, when he wanted it was always a bad thing).

However, over the years he had found himself with predilection towards women who scorned or disapproved of him (not that he stopped appreciating the easy lays). Which is why, with her quick temper and seemingly hostile personality, he had found a perverse kind of satisfaction when it came riling up Foster’s pretty research assistant _._

Darcy was the kind of attractive that you didn’t really notice until you _noticed_. At the gala in Stockholm he’d quickly sized-up the waspish blonde model and was mere moments away from taking her back to his hotel suite, when he’d spotted the striking young brunette looking adorably out of place amongst the rabble. He’d watched as she flitted from awkward wallflower, to sultry temptress, and eventually to angry harpy. She was the first thing in a long time that hadn’t been utterly predictable.

In short, she fascinated him.

Which was why, on a quiet Wednesday morning, he found himself not-so-casually probing Bruce for more information on the elusive Darcy Lewis.

“So, tell me about Foster’s hot little assistant.”

“You really need to stop saying that, Tony. And don’t pretend I don’t know that you did that whole ‘second assistant’ spiel on purpose to rile her up.”

“I believe the kids today call it ‘negging’.”

Bruce really wasn’t down with the vernacular of the current generation. “Negging?”

“Undermining a woman’s confidence in order to increase their need for your approval. Thus making them _much_ more likely to sleep with you.”

“That’s a _really_ dick move, Tony—even for you.” If Bruce sighed any harder, Tony was sure he’d break something. “In any case, Darcy is very much taken so I’d suggest concentrating your efforts elsewhere.”

“You don’t think she could do with someone more _worldly_ than a… What? Twenty-something hipster with an ironic beard and an obsession with kombucha?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “You’re way off base there. He’s an applied physics professor at Columbia.”

“Huh. Older guy… Some daddy issues there?” Bruce pointedly ignored him, but Tony could read the slight tension in his shoulders. “You don’t approve? Jealousy maybe? You two seem to get along well.”

“Ah no, I definitely _don’t_ look at Darcy that way.”

“So, indulge me, what’s the down low on the competition?”

“He’s not your competition.” Bruce paused considering briefly if Tony would just drop the subject if he ignored him. _Unlikely._ “If you really want to know, I worked with him at Culver. He was known to be… ambitious.”

“Ah, you mean a back-stabbing career climber?”

“In the extreme. Betty told me that he was known for doing _whatever_ it took to get ahead.”

“Such as?”

“Such as suddenly meeting and proposing to the dean’s daughter when an opportunity for tenure came up. Fortunately for her, she found out he was sleeping with _more than one_ of his undergrad students and broke it off before the wedding.”

“And Lewis knows this?”

“She’s aware that he has a certain reputation. I’m not sure what that extends to, but I know that Jane has warned her off him... Repeatedly.”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows, “But didn’t Lewis study international relations or some shit? What’s there to gain? Y'know, aside from the obvious physical benefits.”

“Political science,” Bruce corrected, “and I suspect it’s more about her pedigree.”

“Pedigree? She a schnauzer now?”

“Her father was Professor Astor-Lewis.”

“No shit, seriously?” Tony had studied his work on quantum field theory. "Isn’t he the one who…” he pointed his index and middle finger towards his head and mimed pulling a trigger. “Explains the daddy issues.”

“She doesn’t have daddy issues.” Bruce paused, thinking back to a conversation with Jane a few months ago, and reconsidered. “She maybe does have a slight predilection for older men."

“Check one for me.” Tony mimed checking off an imaginary tick box in the air. “Any other family?”

“Her mom passed a few years before and I know there’s a brother, but I think he’s a few years older and I understand they don’t really keep in touch.”

“So, any extended family take her in or did she end up on the foster system?”

“Neither.”Bruce explained, “Her parents were both only children, but Astor-Lewis was well-liked in his academic circle and many of his friends and colleagues took it upon themselves to look out for her. Her brother shipped her off to some boarding school in Massachusetts shortly after her father’s death, but she would come back and spend breaks and holidays with her father’s friends and their families. I actually met her at a thanksgiving dinner at Albert Thompson’s.”

“I’m still not seeing the connection here.”

“She’s a sweet girl, Tony, and very easy to like. A lot of important people have a vested interest in her happiness—it would be fairly logical to say that being affiliated with someone like her might help his career.”

“So, you’re saying she likes ill-intentioned older men with dubious sexual pasts? Sounds like I’m just her type.”

Bruce gave him a dead-eyed stare. “I can’t believe _that’s_ what you’re taking away from this conversation…” He sighed, “She’s a nice girl, Tony—she doesn’t deserve to be screwed around with.”

“I get it. She doesn’t need a fuck-up like me making her life more difficult.” He raised his hands in the air in response to Bruce's glare, “Cross my cold, dead heart that from here on out I’ll be the perfect gentleman… Or at least as much of one as I’ll ever be.”

Bruce eyed Tony suspiciously but then acquiesced, “Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it.”

However, Bruce’s suspicion was well-merited. Because any time someone told Tony that he couldn’t have something (even if it was Tony himself) he almost _always_ took it as a challenge.

* * *

Fall was fast approaching in New York and Jane had _finally_ finished moving into her new lab (as well as Thor’s apartment). Finally settling in to the new rhythm of work and college, Darcy was making use of her first quiet afternoon to catch-up on Jane’s paperwork.

“Hey, boss lady...” Jane looked up from her laptop, “Have you seen the approval form for the new spectrometer? I sent it down to Stark’s PA for sign-off last week.”

Jane laughed, “Yeah, good luck with that. Tony’s last assistant quit and Bruce told me the new one is too afraid to speak to him.”

“Ugh. Stark is a verified pain in the ass.” Darcy sighed, “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you _really_ need this spectrometer?”

Jane quirked an eyebrow in response, “He’s not _that_ bad, Darcy.”

“Fine… But I can’t promise I won’t tase him in his smug billionaire face if he says anything inappropriate.”

“You do know he’s _Iron Man_ , right? Maybe don’t go picking fights.”

Darcy snorted, “Seriously, I took on _Thor._ ” Jane rolled her eyes, not bothering to point out (again) that taking on a god didn’t _really_ count if you just thought he was a regular ol' crazy homeless man.

“Hey FRIDAY, can you let me know where Stark’s currently hiding out?”

“Boss is currently in his workshop on the eighty-ninth floor, Miss Lewis.” The AI responded, “I’ll notify him that you’ll be coming up.”

Darcy grabbed the custom Starkpad from next to her long-cold coffee and headed for the door. “Janey, if I get dragged out of the building by security and permanently banned from the premises, let it be know that I blame _you_.”

Darcy headed out of the labs to the main lifts in the reception to wait for the secure elevator that was the only access to the uppermost floors.

Unable to deal with extended silences whist in the presence of others, Darcy greeted the much-older woman sitting behind the reception desk,“Hey, Dolores, what’s new with you?”

Dolores pointedly ignored her and continued reading her _Soap Opera Digest_.

Darcy nodded her head along to the imaginary conversation in her head until the elevator arrive. “Good to hear. _Great talk_ , Dolores.” Darcy got the feeling that the old harpy disliked her more than the rest of the scientists on the floor.

Arriving at Tony’s lab a few floors up, Darcy took a few tentative steps forward looking round the seemingly empty lab for the man himself.

She gave a sudden shriek as a voice from behind her suddenly permeated through the silence.

“What can I do for you, Lewis?”

She placed a hand on her chest in a vain effort to calm her thudding heart. “Jesus-fucking-Christ, Stark! Don’t sneak up on a girl like that.”

He laughed and walked over to the kitchenette in the corner of his workshop to grab two ceramic mugs from under the coffee machine on the counter. “Here” he said, holding out one of them for her to take.

She stared at the brown liquid suspiciously and narrowed her eyes. “You sure it’s not, like, roofied or anything?”

Tony snorted, “Trust me, I prefer it when women are _screaming_ out my name. They can’t do that if they’re unconscious.” She still didn’t move to take it from his hand and he sighed. “It’s a peace offering.”

She finally reached out at took it from his hand, “Thanks.”

Tucking the tablet she was carrying under her arm, she took a sip from the mug and let out a satisfied moan, “This is _really_ good. How’d you know how I take my coffee?”

Tony offered her a small quirk of his lip in response, “I could claim to be psychic, but in reality there isn’t much that goes on in the building that doesn’t get built into your user profile—FRIDAY had it on your record.”

Darcy couldn’t quite decide whether that was useful or intrusive. Changing the subject she held out the Starkpad in front of him, “I have some requisition forms for you to sign-off.”

“You do know I have a PA to deal with that, right? John…or is it Jim?” Tony hadn’t really paid attention to him since he’d been hired by Pepper. Apparently human resources was worried about another sexual harassment suit and had thought appointing a male PA was the best way forward. Without a pretty face Tony’d had less inclination than usual to tolerate having him around the lab.

“He's called Tobias.” She corrected, “You do know he’s petrified of you, right? Which is why I’m guessing he hasn’t been down here in the last week to get anything signed-off.”

He smirked, “Well, the more afraid he is the less likely he is to ask me to actually _do_ things.”

“Pepper is going to send Dolores up here if you aren’t careful.” The old crone from the R&D reception had been terrifying him since he was a kid. He shuddered; _hard pass on that._

“You can sit down you know. I won’t bite.” He motioned to the sofa next to the counter. “Unless, of course, you ask me to.”

Distracted, Darcy ignored his suggestive tone and instead wondered over to the opposite side of the workshop-come-lab where his Iron Man suits were displayed in the lit display case spanning the back wall. He watched her with interest as she eyed them with curiosity, moving from rougher, bulkier, Mark I to the newer streamlined Mark VII.

“They’re amazing. More—intimidating?—than I thought they’d be.”

“It’s battle armor; scaring off the enemy is part of the design spec.”

She’d paused in front of the Mark VI. “This is where you replaced the palladium core in the arc reactor, correct? Bruce said it was killing you.”

“My blood toxicity was reaching fatal levels and the cores degraded, yes.” He said with a practiced flippancy, “It was when I made Pepper CEO… I was trying to put everything in order—I didn’t want anyone being left with my mess when I kicked the veritable bucket.”

She was still looking at the suit “That was good of you.” She replied with disarming sincerity, “Some people just leave everyone else to pick up the mess after they’re gone.”

He stayed silent, observing her from the opposite end of the room. He noted that she was dressed for autumn, wearing black boots, thick tights, with a mid-thigh leather skirt and a fitted wine colored jumper. He hadn’t seen her hair down before, it was longer than he expected; a pretty dark-brown tone that bought out the alabaster of her skin.

“You synthesized a new element, right?

“Yeah, ‘Badassium’—SI patented.”

She turned back to look at him, a bubble of laughter erupted from her lips. “You’re joking.”

It triggered a half-smile from him in return. “Nope. We had some legal issues getting the patent initially, but it got registered last year.”

“How’d you create it?”

“My father created the blueprint _years_ ago. He theorized that the new element structure could partially replicate the energy of the Tesseract, but back then they didn’t have the technical capabilities.” He paused, wondering how much detail he should go in to. “You know what a particle accelerator is?”

Darcy recalled being a child and her father attempting to explain his excitement over the CERN collider. She furrowed her eyebrows, concentrating on recalling the details of the memory. “It’s a device that uses magnets to fire subatomic particles into their anti-particles at the light speed, right? To create, like, mini big bangs?”

Tony nodded. “I created a small-scale version in my basement and used an intensified stream of subatomic particles from the accelerator to synthesize it.”

She looked back to the suit. “I think I understand at least some of that.” Her shoulders slumped slightly, “My dad would have loved these.”

“You know, I studied some of Astor-Lewis's work when I was at MIT.”

He watched her quickly turn back to him, her lips slightly parted “You know who my dad is… was?” Which also meant that Tony _knew_ what’d happened to him.

He leaned back against central platform a few meters behind her, placing the tablet and coffee down next to him, and nodded. “Bruce mentioned it. Sorry, I assumed it wasn’t a secret?”

She frowned. “It’s not. It’s just… ‘hey, you know my father, the oh-so-brilliant scientist who blew his brains out when I was fourteen’ tends to be a conversation stopper for most people.”

She turned to find him at her side, hands in his pockets, brown eyes staring down at her intently. “This building is full of orphans with sob stories—you’re far from odd man out.”

“I can’t tell whether that’s meant to be comforting or not.” Darcy offered him a small smile before continuing. “You know, Stark, you can actually be pretty tolerable when you’re not insulting me or trying get into my pants.”

“Oh, I’m definitely still trying. I’ve just decided to play the long game here.”

She scowled at him. Her heart wasn’t quite in it and he laughed in response.

“Anyway, I better go back down to help Jane.” She walked over to the central platform and grabbed the tablet. “Could you sign-off this requisition request?”

He took the Starkpad from her hand and tapped on the screen a few times. “Sixty-thousand dollars? Do I get something in return for this?” He teased.

“How about a good turn at a later date?”

“Fellatio?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a bagel from that deli around the corner.”

“Hell of an expensive bagel.” He scanned in his thumbprint and handed the device back to Darcy. “You know, you’re welcome up here anytime, Lewis. You can actually be pretty tolerable when you’re not about to wring my neck.”

She rolled her eyes at his mock of her earlier comment, but smiled and lightly-punched his upper arm before turning to leave. “See you later, Stark.”

He watched her leave, letting his gaze trail over the smooth curves of her ass and thighs as she walked away. ‘ _Shit.’_ He thought, _‘I might be getting myself in trouble here.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually ended up splitting out the chapters here as it was turning out to be a verrrrry loooooong chapter. Thanks to all those who have commented or left kudos - really made my week!


	3. The lipstick on the window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I have met so many people in my life who have made me fall in love. But you, you are the first that has made my stay in love. And I will be with you forever.” - Anon

It was a Friday night and Tony came down to the R&D labs bearing three glasses and a bottle of obscenely expensive scotch for them to toast Foster’s “official” moving in. Jane and Bruce sat on the small couch in the corner of the workspace, whilst Tony perched himself on a spare computer chair that he’d pulled over from Darcy’s desk. He raised a glass in a toast, “To Doctor Jane Foster, the best and brightest of all of us… Well, except _me,_ of course.”

“To Jane Foster.” Echoed Bruce, pointedly ignoring Tony’s comment.

Jane blushed. “Thanks, guys... Here’s to a proper lab, decent funding, and to finally getting equipment that isn’t held together with duct tape.” The three glasses clinked together. “Cheers!”

“Hey, aren’t we missing someone? Is Darcy not joining us for the party?” Queried Bruce.

“Three _does not_ make a party, Bruce. Anyway, _dear_ Julien is dragging her along to some dinner this evening. She’s just in the bathroom getting changed.”

There was a knock on the glass, and they looked up to see a tall blond man giving a two-fingered wave atthem, motioning towards the door in a request to enter. Tony observed a terse look shoot between Bruce and Jane, and neither made an immediate move to allow him into the lab. “Guess someone should let him in,” sighed Bruce, “FRIDAY, open the lab door.”

As the door slid open the blond strolled in, giving a single lazy wave to the trio. Speaking with a soft French lilt, he greeted them, “Dr Foster. Dr Banner. Apologies, I didn’t intend to interrupt your celebrations. Darcy had asked me to wait here for her.”

Bleeding hostility, Tony eyed him up. “And you are?”

“Julien Girard—Darcy’s boyfriend. And of course, you are Tony Stark.”

Tony stared pointedly at the outstretched hand in front of him and then back to the frenchman. “I’m not big on physical contact with strangers.” 

Julien snorted in response “That’s not what I hear from Darcy.” He turned back to Bruce, “Dr Banner. Tell me, how is Dr Ross these days?” _Ouch._

“We broke up. _Ten years ago._ ”

“Ah, désolé.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. Julien’s attention was suddenly diverted when the lab doors slid open and he emitted an annoyed sigh. “Darcy, sweetheart, we’re already late.”

Tony turned to see Darcy at the lab entrance, learning against a desk to balance herself as she slipped off the sensible shoes she wore around the lab and replaced them with some uncomfortable looking heels. He took the pretty brunette in fully as she drew herself up. Her hair was pinned up in a loose bun, and she was wearing a tailored mid-length dress that followed every curve and cinched in at the waist, in a deep shade of red that almost exactly matched color of her lipstick.

“I know, sorry! I got ready as fast as I could… How do I look?” She asked as Julien walked up to her and pecked her on the lips.

“Very pretty, my love.” Julien reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “But I think the lipstick is a bit much, no?”

Tony disagreed. Tony _loved_ the red lipstick.

He watched as the pompous French _prick_ rested his hand low on Darcy’s waist like he had every right to (objectively, he supposed he did) and used a handkerchief in his other hand to gently wipe the red from her lips.

Julien pulled away from her, folding the material and tucking it back into his pocket. “Much better.”

Darcy was looking up at him and smiling sweetly with complete adoration. It made Tony feel a little bit sick. “Should I bring my purse?”

“No, leave it. We can drop by and grab it tomorrow when we go to brunch.”

Darcy moved to the large bag by her desk and started unpacking some smaller items into a black clutch. “Oh shit, I forgot to charge my phone.”

“It’ll be fine. You don’t need it anyway.” Julien drawled, pointedly checking his watch again and tapping the face of it impatiently.

Darcy hurriedly grabbed a navy coat from beside the door and tucked it over her arm, “Sorry, sorry… I’m all ready.”

Turning back to the three scientists she waved goodbye. “Sorry I couldn’t join your little ‘lab warming’ party. Make sure Tony behaves, and I’ll see you guys on Monday?”

They returned her wave in tandem, watching as the couple left and headed down the hallway to the lift in the main reception.

As soon as they turned out of eyesight, Tony grunted “So, _that_ was the douchetastic boyfriend… Bit old for her isn’t he?”

“He’s the same age as you, Tony.” Bruce pointed out, unhelpfully. “And you’ve propositioned her _multiple_ times.”

“I’m young at heart… Basically twenty-five.”

“More like a horny fifteen year old.”

“What was that, Foster?”

“ _Nothing._ ”  
  


* * *

  
It was roughly four in the morning when Tony went down to Jane’s lab to _appropriate_ some thyristors (it’s totally not stealing when his company was the one paying for them in the first place). He’d raided her components cupboard on more than one occasion as it _always_ seemed to have whatever he was looking for. He _really_ needed to stop leaving DUM-E in charge of his workshop inventory.

The belated welcome drinks with Bruce and Foster had been relatively measured (particularly for him) and when the others had headed back up to their respective apartments on the eighty-ninth floor, he’d headed back off to his lab to continue working on the latest upgrade for his suit.

As he walked into the lab, he stumbled over something on the floor and the automatic lights flicked on at full brightness, revealing the figure that was currently half-asleep on the couch in the corner of the room.

“What the…? Shit.” Darcy rubbed her eyes as she tried to adjust to the sudden change in light; the coat she was using as a makeshift blanket pooling around her waist

“Jesus, Lewis, what’re you doing in here? You OK?”

He cast his eyes over her in concern. Her hair, although still in the bun, was slightly disheveled and she was still wearing the red dress she’d left in. The heels had been kicked off and left in the middle of the room, obviously what he’d stumbled over when he entered.

As he got closer he observed that her eyes were slightly reddened and she had one of the ice packs from the first aid station wrapped around her wrist, using messily wrapped bandage to hold it in place.

She gave an inelegant hiccup and looked like she was about to start crying. “Julien’s been _fucking_ one of his students.”

 _Well, shit._ Tony paused, considering briefly if he was really the best person to be dealing with an overwrought woman, before he caved and strode over to her, positioning himself on the chair he’d occupied earlier, hunching over slightly to position his face at her level. “You wanna tell me exactly what happened?”

Darcy wiped a tear away from her cheek. “We got home after dinner and this _girl_ was waiting outside for him. She just ran over to us started telling me _everything…_ About how they’d been screwing for months whilst I was in Europe. How he’d told her he _loved_ her—that he would be breaking up with me as soon as I got back. How he’d fucked her in his office the night before, then broke the whole thing off.

“He kept telling me that it wasn’t true, that she was just a psycho and making it all up. That he loved me more than anything…”

Tony reached out to her and started to unravel the bandage around her wrist to remove the compress pack. Once it was freed, he turned her small wrist around in his hands, examining the injury. It was slightly swollen and starting to bruise, but didn’t look like anything more than a nasty sprain.

“Did he do this?” Tony asked, an angry edge to his voice.

“No! No. He would never.” She trailed off, meeting Tony’s intense gaze as he waited for an explanation. “I fell.”

Tony looked skeptical, “My phone was dead and my purse was here. I had to _walk_ here from the Upper West Side. I was… upset and a bit drunk, and those shoes really aren’t made for more walking more than a few blocks. I just tripped.”She used the hand not being held by Tony’s to push the coat off her lap onto floor, and pulled up her dress slightly to reveal her scraped knees.

“You should’ve used a payphone to call the main switchboard. FRIDAY could have send a car instead of you walking a hour through Manhattan in the early hours to get here.”

“I know. I just _really_ didn’t feel like dealing with the ‘I told you so’ speech from Jane… Or Bruce.” He understood _that_ feeling more than she would know.

“You can’t sleep in the labs, Darcy.” He let his thumb rub small, gentle circles on the pulse of her injured wrist. He stood and offered his other hand to her. “Come on, we’ll get you sorted out.”

She slid her hand into his, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Tony wasn’t a tall man, but without the shoes the top of her head only just lined up with his chin. He led her barefoot (and slightly limping) down the hallway to the lift. “Is this where you finally get me into your bed?” She half-joked, pulling her hand back from his to wrap her arms around herself.

Tony’s gaze trailed over her body with an obvious appreciation, pausing at her chest, before looking back up to her tear-stained face. “There’s not much sport in bedding an injured and overwrought woman.” He signed and turned to face the lift doors, "FRIDAY, take us to the eighty-seventh floor. Also, give Darcy here permanent access to all levels.”

“Sure thing, Boss. Universal access now added for Miss Lewis.”

The lift only took them up one level and the doors opened into a hall that resembled that of a fairly nondescript, but modern, hotel chain. The guest floor was primarily used as overnight accommodation by out-of-town SI executives or scientists who just needed a place to rest between meetings.

Tony turned to the left as he walked out of the lift, going a short distance down the hall to the first door on the right, which had the number “871” on the door. He opened the door, giving a flourished mock-bow and gesturing for her to enter ahead of him. “Your room, m’lady.”

It was a decent sized room (at least for New York City) with a large bed, desk, wardrobe, and a small kitchenette that consisted of just a fridge, sink and microwave. The separate bathroom was small, but housed a shower and other necessary amenities.

“Make yourself at home, kiddo. I’ll be back in just a sec.”

Darcy offered him a small half-smile and sat down on top of the bed, her entire body suddenly feeling heavy with the full effects of mental and physical exhaustion. She began to pull out the various hairpins that were holding her hair in place at the base of her neck, some of the tension in her head dissipating as the hair fell loose.

Tony reappeared only a couple of minutes later holding a toiletry bag, towel and some folded black material she presumes is clothing. “We have emergency overnight kits in the supply closet,” he explained, handing her a large t-shirt with the Stark Industries logo on the right-hand side of the chest, and leaving the towel and washbag on the bed next to her.

Darcy gathered enough energy to push herself from the bed into a standing position in front of him, turning around so the back of her dress was facing him. Using her uninjured hand to pull her hair over her shoulder to reveal the top of the zip, she peered at him over her shoulder. “Would you mind?”

Tony gave a dark laugh. “You do know how to torture a man, Lewis.” He pulled the zip down to the small of her back—the gap in the material revealing a tantalizing hint of the black lace of her underwear and the pale skin of her back. “You know, this really isn’t how I imagined I’d be getting you undressed.”

“Oh no?”

She was exhausted and currently passed caring _too_ much about propriety and, keeping her back to him, she let the top half of her dress fall from her shoulders to her waist in order to pull on the t-shirt. It was large enough that it covered down to her mid thigh and she shimmied the dress off restof the way before kicking it to the corner of the room.

He watched her undress with interest, eyes trailing over the exposed skin as she pulled the t-shirt on, and then the soft curves of her thighs as she pulled the dress down to the floor. “I was hoping the words ‘please, take me now Mr Stark’ would come into play at some point.”

“I’ve _never_ called you ‘Mr Stark’.”

“Never too late to start. Alternatively, I’ll also accept ‘sir’…or ‘master of the universe’…or you can always call me ‘daddy’ if we are doing something _particularly_ filthy.”

Darcy rolled her eyes but laughed. “You’re a dirty, dirty man, Tony Stark.”

“You have no idea.” Tony leant against the wall, his arms folded in front of him, showcasing the muscles of his arms released by the old, grease-covered t-shirt he was wearing. “Allow me to demonstrate when you’re less…” He trailed off when Darcy gave a small sniff. “You going to be OK, Lewis?”

“At the moment it doesn’t feel like it.” She looked down to her feet, biting her lip to repress an erupting sob. “But objectively, yes.”

“It gets better. I should know.”

“You and Pepper?”

“Yeah. Although I can’t recommend my way of managing emotional turmoil.”

“Copious amounts of alcohol and increasingly deviant sexual encounters?”

“Oh no, the sex definitely heals the soul—trust me.”

In spite of how she was feeling she barked a laugh and offered him a small smile. “Right, yeah, I’ll take your work for it.” A slightly awkward silence fell between them, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she bit her lip.

“Inappropriate sexual propositions aside, this is your room for however long you need it.”

Blue eyes met brown, and for the first time Darcy realised how deep and warm a brown his eyes really were.“Thanks, Tony.”

“Anyway, I’ll let you get some rest. You look like shit.”

“You always know how to raise a girl’s spirit, Tony.”

“I promise, on any other day there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to get between your thighs.”

“Thanks? I think…” Darcy moved towards the bed, pulling to covers back to climb in between the sheets.

“Consider it a standing offer. Whenever you’re ready for rebound sex, y’know where you do all the dirty, _filthy_ things you wouldn’t do with your ex to prove a point, I’ll be here waiting.”

She mustered just enough energy to throw a cushion in his direction. “It was _almost_ going well, Tony—don’t push your luck.” She yawned and settled her head down on the remaining pillow. “Good night, Tony.”

“Night, Darcy.” Tony took his cue to leave, heading for the door. “Anything I can do for you, sexual or otherwise, remember all you have to do is ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh. Not so happy with how this has turned out. Let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah... It's been a long time since inspiration has struck, but this idea got into my head and wouldn't leave until I put it down somewhere. 
> 
> I have the whole story outlined, but not too sure if it's worth completing. It's completely un-beta'd, so all mistakes my own. Any feedback appreciated.


End file.
